A Visit to Motel Linus
by Maplefrost
Summary: Charlie locks himself and Desmond out of their house on a snowy winter day. So who will they stay with? None other than Benjamin Linus, the human enigma. AU, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1: Goodbye Keys!

So, in this world, the helicopters came, and Boone, Shannon, Ana Lucia, Libby, and Charlie all survived. Plus, Ben and a couple of Others (including Danielle) were rescued as well. This is about one or two years after the rescue.

Enjoy!

* * *

The air was still. The little street was absolutely silent. The only noises were purely serene - a bird singing, this slight rustle of trees as a light breeze shook their branches, the light chatter of squirrels jumping from tree to tree. The little street was also covered in seven inches of snow.

On this little street sat a little house, as quiet as the others, with two stories. Inside was a modestly decorated household, simple and charming. Up the stairs were three bedrooms, two of which were currently occupied. One was occupied by the house's owner - he was fast asleep in the master bedroom. In the other room, the guest bedroom, was a guest who had been visiting the house for quite some time. He was just waking up.

He was short in stature, in his late twenties, and had shaggy, blond hair. He slept quietly, twitching in his sleep. After a few more moments, he woke up with a groan of annoyance. He sluggishly sat up and pushed himself out of bed, walking across the room to the small window. He raised a had to peek through the blinds.

"SNOW!"

The blue eyes of Charlie Pace flew open. He ran out of his bedroom, and into the master bedroom across the hallway. "Des! Dezzy, wake up, mate!" He leaped onto the bed, where 'Des' was sleeping. The thirty-two year old woke with a start.

"Wot's wrong, brutha?" The slurred, heavily-accented voice was hard to hear, because Desmond Hume was trying his best to shove his face as far into the pillow as possible. Why did Charlie have to wake him up so early? He didn't even want him in the house. But, when his wife, Penelope Hume, heard about Charlie's boarding needs, she offered up the guest bedroom without a second thought. Charlie was to live with them until his fiancé, Claire Littleton, finished college in her native Australia and flew to the U.K. to live with Charlie and her young son, Aaron. Currently, the pregnant Penelope was in the United States, meeting with some American executives to talk about her company's future in America. Penny had inherited her father's company after he passed away. That left the house with Desmond, Charlie, and Charlie's goldfish, Sayid.

"Nothing's wrong!" Charlie said with a laugh. He sat up on the bed, legs crossed.

Desmond lifted himself off the bed by his arms, staring at his pillow. "Then why did ya wake me up, brutha?" he asked, irritated.

"Because it's SNOWING!" Charlie shouted the last word, bouncing of the bed.

Desmond sat up, certain that there'd be know way he would be allowed any more sleep. "Hush, Charlie. You'll wake up the neighbors." He walked over to the window, peering out through the blinds. "Hmm. A lot of snow last night," he noticed audibly.

Charlie ran up and grabbed Desmond's sleeve, tugging on it like a four year old. "Can we go play in the snow? Please? Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaase?" He looked up at Desmond with puppy-dog eyes, sticking his lower lip out in a pout.

Desmond quickly considered his options. "Fine," he muttered, defeated. Charlie let out a squeal of joy and ran out of the room. "GET DRESSED FIRST!" Desmond yelled. He heard a grumble of annoyance coming from the direction of Charlie's room, and had to laugh.

A few minutes later, and Desmond descended the stairs. He was wearing a warm outfit, topped off with a black winter coat with a black plaid interior. Waiting for him at the door was Charlie, who was wearing a coat that made him look like the child of bright green marshmallows.

Desmond opened the door and walked outside, followed by Charlie. The moment the door shut, Charlie raised a hand. "Wait! I need my hat."

Desmond rolled his eyes, and dug into his pocket. "Here," he muttered, shoving the keys into Charlie's hand.

"Thanks, Des!" Charlie quickly unlocked the door and went inside.

Desmond started to stroll down the driveway in his snowboots, snow crunching underfoot. Everything was pretty and white, covered with a cold blanket of snow. He took in a deep breath, and let it out with a smile. Although he may not share Charlie's enthusiasm, he did like the snow.

"Got it!" Charlie's yell, accompanied by the door slamming, shook Desmond out of his reverie. He turned around, and saw Charlie running towards him. Now, he was wearing a bright orange cap. Overall, he was dressed quite warmly, albeit casually. Desmond, in his plain coat and jeans, was dressed the same: casual.

Enter Benjamin Linus.

Benjamin Linus was never dressed casually. For example, today he was wearing a black winter trench coat, stylish snow boots, a black tophat, and a red scarf. In his right hand was his omnipresent walking stick; in his left, a red leash to which a medium-sized dog was trotting along. He looked up.

"Hello, Desmond! Hello Charlie!"

Desmond smiled and walked up to the mailbox. Ever since they'd been rescued from the island, Ben and Desmond had been close friends. Now, their houses were side by side. Charlie remained in the yard, making snow angels.

"Hey, Ben. Classes cancelled tadae?" Desmond leaned on the Hume's mailbox as he spoke.

Ben smiled. "Yup." He unclipped the leash from the dog's collar. "Home, Sawyer." The dog, Sawyer, trotted up the driveway of the house next to Desmond's. Sawyer leapt up and pushed the doorbell with his nose. "Can't drive out to Oxford in this weather."

Desmond chuckled. "Can't drive anywhere in this weather, brutha." Ben laughed in agreement. The door to Ben's house opened, and a woman patted the dog on the head.

"Hello boy. Is daddy talking to Desmond?" She spoke with a slight French accent. The dog barked and ran inside. The woman looked out at the mailbox.

"Hello boys!"

"Hi Danielle!" Desmond waved jovially.

"Hi, honey," Ben called. "Make sure he doesn't track snow in!"

Danielle nodded and closed the door. Ben rolled up Sawyer's leash and put it in his pocket. "So, Desmond, Danielle was wondering if you and Charlie could come over for dinner tomorrow. She's making this new pasta and wants 'people who won't lie to make her feel better'. Are you free?"

Desmond shrugged. "I dunno. I'll 'ave tae look at my planner." He glanced at Charlie over his shoulder. "Hey, Charlie! Can ya run inside and grab my planner?"

Charlie jumped up, brushing snow off of his arms. "Sure! Can I have the keys?"

Desmond blinked. "I gave ya the keys, brutha. When ya when to get your hat."

"You did?" Charlie thought a moment. Then, his jaw dropped. "Uh oh…" He ran up to the porch and started inside the window. There, sitting on the coffe table, were the house keys. "I think I left them in the house, mate."

Desmond rolled his eyes. "Wonderful, brutha. Just wonderful."

Ben looked concerned. "Don't you have a spare set?"

Desmond sighed. "Of course. But Penny has them, and she won't be back for a couple a weeks."

"What'll we do now?" Charlie ran up to the two of them, obviously panicking. "Where will we live? What will we eat? What about Sayid?"

Desmond, fed up with questions, clenched his fists and glared at Charlie. "You're fish is just gunna 'afta die, brutha!"

Charlie's eyes widened. "But…but…" He sighed, frowning.

Desmond's gaze softened. "Sorry, mate."

Ben smiled. "I have an idea. Why don't you live with us until Penny gets home?"

A solution! Desmond grinned. "You would do that, really?"

Ben nodded. "Of course! Let's go talk to Danielle; I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

The three men started to walk up the Linus' driveway. Desmond smiled. "Hey, Ben."

"Yes?"

"I think we'll be able to make it to dinner tomorrow."

* * *

R&R?


	2. Chapter 2: Moe and Joe

Short, boring chappie. Sorry! I had to get it out of the way. Next chapter will be better!

* * *

The three men entered the house. The Linus household was a little more intricate than the Hume house, but it wasn't, by any means, flashly. It was modernly ornate, similar to Desmond's house, but with more artwork and plants. Little things.

"Danielle?" Ben called out into the house as he hung his top hat on the coat rack.

"Kitchen!" Danielle replied.

The three men, after shedding their boots, found Danielle in the kitchen, scouring a skillet with steel wool.

"Hello, Desmond. Hello, Charlie," she greeted, putting the skillet down in the sink. "What are you doing here?"

Ben wringed his hands together, taking off his gloves as he did so. "Well, uh, you see, Danielle, Charles managed to lock himself and Desmond out of their house-"

"It was an accident!

Ben rolled his eyes. "Anyway, they need a place to stay until Penelope gets home from America, so-"

"So they want to stay with us," Danielle finished. She glanced over at Desmond and Charlie, an odd sight in their pajamas.

Charlie waved. "Hi."

Danielle smiled. "Hello, Charlie." She looked up at Ben. "Why not just call a locksmith?"

Ben closed his eyes and let his head fall back. "A locksmith," he muttered. "How could I have been so moronic!"

Danielle laughed. "I'll call one up, see if they can come out in the snow." As she passed Ben, she handed him the steel wool. "Which means you," she said, with a smirk, "can finish the dishes." She leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek, and then wandered into the drawing room to find the phone book.

Ben frowned. He handed the steel wool to Charlie. "Which means you can finish the dishes," he ordered.

Charlie frowned. "Where's my kiss?" he asked.

What he got was a smack to the head.

-x-X-x-

"There you go!"

Jerry Foreman, the locksmith called by Danielle, stood up with his toolbox. He leaned on the door.

"Thanks, brutha," Desmond said.

"You're welcome," said Jerry. He opened the door, but before any of them could take a step inside, seven or eight small bugs crawled out onto the front porch.

"Ah!" Desmond glared at the bugs. "What are those?"

"Woodlice," Jerry said. "My father was a pest killer."

"Pests?" Desmond walked into the house. The minute he walked in, dozens of the little bugs scattered back to hiding places. "How did they get in here?"

Charlie looked away. "Well, my pet woodlice Moe and Joe escaped…"

Desmond, fuming, turned his gaze on Charlie. "When?" Charlie swallowed.

"A couple of months ago."

Desmond restrained himself from leaning forward and choking the shorter man. After calming himself, he turned to Jerry. "How come we haven't seen them before?"

Jerry shrugged. "Number of potential reasons. It could be that they just didn't feel like escaping until now. They usually hide around humans." He glanced inside the house. "It looks like you've got quite the infestation."

"Well, how do we get rid of them?" Desmond asked.

"Tenting would be best," Jerry said. "You leave the house, and pest control puts a huge tent over the house and fumigates the house to kill the bugs. Then, they'll have to clean all the dead bugs out, and they'll shoot the house at least four times - "

"Hold on," Desmond interrupted. "How long will this whole thing take?"

Jerry thought a moment. "At least six weeks."

Desmond's eyes went wide. "Six weeks?"

Jerry nodded. "And I'd get it done soon. You don't the population to, you know…get bigger."

Desmond glared at Charlie. "You are paying payin' for this, brutha," he spat.

Charlie put on a pathetic face. "Alright mate, but that means I'll have to dip into my house fund, which means that I'll have to live with you longer."

"No!" Desmond spoke quickly. "Nevermind, I'll pay." He looked at Jerry.

"So…know a good pest control?"


	3. Chapter 3: Getting Settled In

The entire Linus family was assembled in the living room, waiting for Benjamin to enter with 'the plan'. Charlie sat on one end of the couch, and Daniella sat on the other. Desmond and Alex sat between them. To Charlie's left, Karl sat in a chair by himself. Two large suitcases sat over by the door, with a goldfish bowl on top of one.

"Alright, team." Ben strutted into the room, wheeling a small chalkboard behind him. "We're going to have two more people living in this house, and we need to set down some ground rules."

Charlie nudged Desmond, who turned his head just in time to see the blonde make a 'crazy' sign with his finger. Desmond slapped him on the arm. "Charlie!" he hissed. "Don't be rude!" Charlie frowned. He slapped Desmond on the leg. Desmond slapped him back. Slap. Slap. Slap.

"RULE NUMBER ONE." Ben's voice boomed through the room, higher than usual. Desmond and Charlie stopped immediately. Ben glared at them. "No fighting."

Desmond scooted closer to Alex, grabbing a pillow and placing it between himself and Charlie, who pouted in response.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Now, before I get to the rules, I want to explain how some things work around here. Number one!" He pointed his meterstick to Karl, sitting in the armchair. "That is the 'Karl' chair, for Karl. It is there to keep him away from Alex. If you sit in it accidently, there is another one over there." He pointed to the chair in question.

"Number two!" Ben let out a whistle. A soft tinkling noise started to travel down the staircase. Finally, a white rabbit appeared at Ben's feet, marked on the side with a black number eight. Ben picked up the rabbit and revealed the key hanging around his neck. "This is Number Eight. Number Eight has the key to Alex's room around his neck every night. If you try and take the key, he'll bite you. Otherwise, he's a nice bunny." Ben stroked him on the head a couple of times before putting him on the ground. Number Eight hopped over to the couch and landed on Desmond's lap.

"Aww. Rabbit." Desmond gave the rabbit a little scratch behind the ears. Satisfyed, the rabbit curled up and began to sleep.

"Number three! Seeing as I have enough to deal with and really don't feel like creating a whole new schedule to balance out responsiblities, Danielle will tell the both of you what needs to be done and who needs to do it." Danielle gave a little wave as her husband finished.

Karl scoffed. "They know who you are," he muttered. In response, Ben lashed out and smacked him across the lap with his meterstick.

"Now, the rules." Ben flipped over the chalkboard, revealing another side covered in chalk. He pointed to the rules as he addressed them. "No fighting is the first. Fighting applies to any sort of fighting: arguement, fist fight, and so on. Rule two is 'listen to Danielle'. She pretty much runs this house, and she will tell you what to do. Rule three: anything you brought with you is your responsibility."

"Even my goldfish?" Charlie interuppted.

"Yes," Ben said, glaring at Charlie. "Which happens to be close to its death right now."

"WHAT?" Charlie spun around, only to see a cat pawing at the bowl.

"Nadia!" Danielle called the cat, who trotted over to her obediently. Charlie glared at the cat, but didn't say anything else.

"Rule number four." Ben used an irritated tone of voice. "Anyone is allowed to physically harm Karl at any time." Alex sat a little straighter. "Except for Alex." Alex sunk back down once more.

Karl mumbled something under his breath. Ben gave him another good smack with the meterstick.

"Rule five: no long distance phone calls on the land line. That's a big last, but not least, rule six. Charlie's curfew is eight thirty." With that, Ben started to wheel the chalkboard out of the room.

"What?" Charlie jumped up. "That's not fair! I have to work until nine tomorrow night!"

As Ben wheeled out of the room, he called out his answer behind him.

"Not anymore!"

-x-X-x-

Ben showed the two guests to their rooms. Desmond was ushered into the guest room. Charlie started to follow, but Ben stuck an arm out.

"No you don't. You're in Karl's room."

"Aww!" Charlie let out a huff of annoyance. "I don't want to sleep with Karl."

"You won't," Ben assured him. Without turning around, he called, "KARL!"

Karl poked his head out of his room. "Yes, sir?"

"You're on the couch."

"Aww! Come on, sir-"

"Do it." Ben's voice reverted back to its island days, intimidating and disturbing. Karl's eyes widened. He gave a nod and scuttled into his room. A moment later, he had a box of his things. Eyes on the floor, he rushed down the stairs. Ben smiled, and clapped his hands together.

"So...who's hungry?"

-x-X-x-

"Can I help?"

Charlie peered over Danielle's shoulder, watching as she put the top on a boiling pot. Inside the pot was dinner, a.k.a. spaghetti noodles.

Danielle pondered the possibilty. "Oh, alright," she decided. "I can get you to help me with the bread and pasta.

"Bad idea!" Desmond called out as he walked towards the stairs. "The last time he cooked, it was a disaster."

"Aww, Dezzy! Come on! It wasn't that bad-"

"You almost burnt down the whole house!"

"That's not true, I-"

"No fighting!" Ben shouted from his study. Desmond and Charlie stopped. Karl, probably looking for the source of the commotion, walked into the kitchen.

"Oh, let him help," Karl said, with a peculiar grin on his face. "What's the worst he could do?"

-x-X-x-

That night, the Linus' ate take out. Charlie's hand was swathed in bandages. Danielle was missing an inch off her hair.

Ben was regretting his generousity.


	4. Chapter 4: Roomates and Poached Eggs

Chapter 4, kiddos! Thanks to my awesome, unoffical beta dragonriderpippin, who sat with me on Skype as I wrote this entire thing.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Karl? KARL? HEY, KARL!"

Charlie's shouts rang through the house, letting everyone know that Charlie was there. However, Karl was sitting in the living room, headphones in his ears, oblivious to all soung.

"KARL! WHERE ARE YOU? KARLLLLL!"

Ben, who was in his study, cringed. He snapped his glasses off, stomped over to the door, and wrenched it open. He quickly composed himself, before striding into the living room. He grabbed the cord of Karl's headphones and ripped the earbuds out of his ears.

"Ow! What th-"

"Go and find out what is wrong before I rip your entrails out of you and throw them into the street." Once again, the 'island' Ben was back, shooting daggers at Karl with his eyes. Karl, knowning that Ben was very capable of doing just that, leapt off the couch and was up the stairs before Ben could do so much as hit him.

"Charlie, what the hell do you want?" he snapped, irritated.

Charlie frowned. "Your sink's broken, mate," he muttered, pointing towards Karl's room. Karl glared at him.

"I don't care. Just...fix it!" Karl trudged back down the stairs, leaving Charlie standing there. Finally he shrugged.

"Okay. I'll try."

-x-X-x-

"Dad!"

Alex stood in the hallway, staring with horror at the door of Karl's room. A loud thundering was heard, and Ben was at the top of the stairs. Danielle came out of her and Ben's room, where she had been reading. Desmond emerged from his room. Karl and Charlie came up the stairs. Upon seeing Ben, Karl sheepishly shuffled to hide behind Desmond, clutching at the back of Desmond's shirt. He peered over Desmond's shoulder, and found the source of Alex's scream - a puddle of water seeping into the carpet.

"What the..." Ben opened the door, only to see that a thin layer of water covered Karl's floor. Ben leaned his forehead on the door. "Who."

Charlie swallowed. "I was just trying to fix the sink..."

Ben whirled around, grabbing the front of Charlie's shirt. He lifted the blonde and held him against the wall, a fist reeled back.

"Ben!" Danielle rushed forward and grabbed Ben's fist, holding it back. "Don't hurt him!" Ben sighed, and dropped Charlie.

"Desmond! Karl! Get towels. Lots of towels. Danielle, call a contractor so he can come inspect the floor - it might be unstable. Alex, go outside and get the rake, so we can salvage what we can without stepping on the floor. Maybe we can hook Charlie's suitcase. And you." He glared at Charlie, who was pressed againt the wall in fear. "Don't move."

Everyone rushed off to do their jobs. Desmond and Karl retrieved all the towels from the closet. Danielle called the contractor, who would come out tomorrow to assess the damage. With the rake, they were able to get Charlie's stuff out of the room.

"Now, Charlie, you will stay on the couch," Ben instructed.

"What? But I'm on the couch!" Karl protested, stepping out from behind Desmond. Ben glared at him, raising a finger to Karl's chest.

"Don't. Push. Me." Each word, accented with a poke to Karl's chest, was practically a growl. Karl gulped and backed away, back to the shelter behind Desmond, his fingernails digging into Desmond's shoulder. Ben straightened himself and cleared his throat. "Anyway. You'll be staying in the room I wanted to put you in when you first moved in." Ben opened the door to the hallway closet.

"Ben!" Danielle protested. "You can't put him in there."

"Yes, I could!" Ben said, looking at her. "Why couldn't I?"

"Because we have to be humane about this."

"Humane? I've killed people."

"So have I!"

The room fell silent. Ben twiddled his thumbs. Danielle crossed her arms with a smirk.

"Fine." Ben gave in. "Charlie will room with Desmond, Karl can keep the couch.

"Awesome!" Charlie wrapped his arms around Desmond. "Roomies!"

Desmond let out a sound of disgust. He tried to push Charlie away, to no avail. He looked over his shoulder, to which Karl was still latched.

"BOTH OF YOU GET OFF ME."

-x-X-x-

Later that day, at about nine o'clock at night, Charlie slipped into the Linus house, shutting the door quietly. He was past curfew, and really didn't feel like facing the wrath of Ben. He whipped out his phone. "Ah. Dead," he muttered. He looked around. Everyone seemed to be upstairs. With a grin, he tiptoed into the kitchen and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Claire."

Charlie and Claire talked on the landline for a decent five minutes. Claire told him about a project they were working on. Charlie told her about the flood in Karl's room. The two laughed and laughed.

Suddenly, a scarf wrapped around Charlie's neck. Instantly reminded of his near-death experience, Charlie struggled for breath, even though the scarf was loose.

"Claire!" He choked, blinking profusely as white dots swam in front of him. "Claire...don't...take...Claire..." Finally, he passed out on the floor, unconcious.

"Hello?" Claire's frightened voice could be heard on the line. "Charlie? Are you alright? Charlie?"

Ben looked down at Charlie's limp form. He picked up the phone, and spoke with a high pitched, Irish accent.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"M-my name is Claire. Who is this?"

Ben cleared his throat. "My name is Scott Welburg, EMT. The victim, Charlie Pace, do you know him?"

Ben heard Claire gasp. "Victim? Why? What's happened?"

Ben clasped his hand on the speaker, and moved away from the phone. "Welburg! We're losing him!" He moved his hand. "I'm coming, Stephens! I'm sorry, miss, I have to go." He hung up, placing the phone back on the hook with a smirk.

Moments later, footsteps could be heard descending the stairs. Danielle, Desmond, and Alex rushed downstairs.

Danielle gasped. "What happened?"

Ben shrugged. "He was late for curfew, using the landline for a call overseas, so I just...punished him. And her. She thinks he's dying."

Desmond rushed forward, kneeling next to Charlie. He ran the scarf through his fingers. "So, ya pretended ta strangle him? He's goin' ta be traumatized for weeks! We jus' had it so that 'e was okay with hugging around the neck, jus' a few months ago!"

Alex glared at Ben. "This is low, even for you, Dad!"

Ben sighed. "I guess I overreacted."

Danielle was fuming, but she didn't say anything. Charlie let out a soft whimper. "Shh." Desmond slowly started to unwrap the scarf. Charlie's hand weakly shot out, clutching Desmond's wrist. Desmond pulled the scarf away, glancing over Charlie's scars before pulling him in for an awkward, seated hug.

Charlie, concious once more, started to cry. He twisted his hands in Desmond's shirt. "Des...they took Claire...they took Claire..."

"No...hush, brutha..." Desmond rocked Charlie back and forth. "They didn't take Claire, don't worry. It'll be alright." He stood up, carrying Charlie bridal-style. He glared over at Ben, his eyes smoldering. "I hope yer proud of what you've done," Desmond growled. "I will speak to ya tomorrow."

And with that, he took Charlie upstairs.

-x-X-x-

Desmond, closing the door with his shoulder, walked into the small guest room. He walked over to an armchair and lowered Charlie onto it. Desmond tried to pull away, but Charlie's hands were still wrapped in Desmond's shirt. Desmond sighed. He softly took Charlie's hands in his own and removed them from his shirt.

"Hush..." Desmond took the sheets off the bed, as he had don in the past when Charlie was getting over his fears. This way, the sheets couldn't wrap around his shoulders or neck in his sleep. He folded the sheets, put them under the bed, and went back to Charlie.

"Hey, come on, brutha..." Desmond picked Charlie back up, and moved him to the bed. Desmond laid Charlie down, so that his head rested on Desmond's pillow, the firmer one. This way, when Charlie laid his head down, his head wouldn't be engulfed. Once again, Desmond had to disentangle Charlie's hands from the fabric of his shirt, but he didn't mind. He slowly pulled the blanket up to Charlie's shoulders, knowing that if he tried to cover Charlie any further, he would freak out.

The Scotsman pulled a chair up next to the bed, stroking Charlie's hair with one hand. The younger man twitched in his sleep every few moments, but after a minute or two, his breathing slowed and his features relaxed.

Desmond sat at Charlie's beside for a good ten minutes before a soft knock rapped against the door. Charlie, alarmed, let out a loud whimper, curling into a ball for defense. Desmond shushed him, patting him on the shoulder until the Brit finally fell back into an uneasy sleep. Desmond got up, opened the door, and closed it.

Ben smiled weakly. "I hope this isn't a bad time-"

In a matter of seconds, Ben was hanging in the air by the shirt collar, pressed against the opposite wall. Desmond's face was inches away from his, with a wide snarl across it. "If you EVA do somethin' like that again, I will hurt ya. I don't care how hospitable you've been. Do ya understand?" Ben hesitated a second too long. Desmond shoved him further into the wall, teeth clenched in fury.

"DO YA UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes! Yes, I understand," Ben answered, his voice high-pitched. "I won't ever do anything like that again, I promise! I swear!"

Desmond, breathing heavily, dropped Ben. He glared at him, eyes narrowed, for a long moment. Then, he turned, and disappeared into the guest room.

-x-X-x-

The next morning, Danielle, sensing the tension between Ben and Desmond, gave them the chore of cooking breakfast. Ben and Desmond were civil to each other at first, but both warmed up to each other again once they realized that both of them loved poached eggs on their toast, which gave Ben a excuse to make poached eggs.

-x-X-x-

"Ben?"

"Yes, dear?" Ben yelled, without turning from his book. He was sitting in his study, reading Through the Looking Glass.

"Could you and Desmond go and get groceries? The list is on the refrigerator," Danielle called from the living room, where she was working on lesson plans.

"Of course, dear." Ben closed his book and headed up the stairs. He tapped on the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. Desmond opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Danielle wants us to go get groceries," Ben informed him. "If you're not busy, of course."

"No, I'm not busy." Desmond turned to look at Charlie, who was tuning his guitar. "Charlie, I'm goin' ta get groceries with Ben. Will you be okay here?"

Charlie looked up, his eyes like chips of ice as he glared at Ben. "Yea, I'll be fine. Make sure he doesn't strangle you while you're out."

-x-X-x-

"Why'd ya do it?"

Desmond asked the question as they walked into the grocery store. Ben glanced at him a moment, thought about it, and replied, "I don't really know. It was stupid, and...I shouldn't have. I didn't think he'd react like that." He sighed.

Desmond smiled. He put a hand on a cart, and held his other hand out to Ben. "Friends?"

Ben smiled, and shook Desmond's hand. "Friends."

The two of them walked down a couple of aisles, getting bread, milk, oranges, and eggs, among other things. Finally, they reached the spice aisle. Ben, standing on Desmond's left, leaned an arm on the cart while looking for basil. Desmond stood, casually browsing the products on the right aisle, when his cell phone rang. He quickly took it out.

"Hello?"

"Yes, Desmond, this is Danielle."

"Oh, hello Danielle! We're jus' getting the groceries - Ben's looking for basil at the momen-"

"Yes, good, but that's not what I wanted to talk about."

Desmond lifted an eyebrow. "What did ya want to talk about then?"

A breath. Then, "I think Charlie should see a therapist."

"A therapist?" Desmond frowned at the idea. "He doesn't need a therapist - we solved this before, sister, and we can solve it again."

"Yes, but a therapist could hel-"

"I'm not taking 'im to a therapist!" Desmond snapped.

Ben turned his head. "Is she trying to get me to go to therapy again? Because I already told her-"

"Not you, brutha." Desmond slapped him away playfully. "Danielle, this is the end o' this. I'll talk to ya when we get home. Goodbye." Desmond hung up the phone and put it back into his pocket.

"Hmpf." Ben made a noise of disapproval.

"What, brutha?" Desmond protested. Ben rolled his eyes. He took Desmond's phone out of his pocket, turned it off, and put it back.

"Otherwise, she'll just call you again. And again. And again." Ben rolled his eyes, speaking from experience.

Desmond chuckled. "Thanks."

"Uh..."

Two voices, in unison, came from behind them. Confused, Ben and Desmond turned around.

* * *

I can has cliffhanger? Yes, yes you can has.

Please review! Flames will be put in a fire for Ben and Desmond to make poached eggs over.


	5. Chapter 5: Coffee Snakes

"Jack?"

"Desmond?"

"James?"

"Bug-eyes?"

The four men faced each other, dumbstruck. There, hands on a grocery cart, were Jack Sheppard and Sawyer Ford. Sawyer was holding what looked like a shopping list.

"Old friends..." Sawyer took a pen out of Jack's shirt pocket and pretended to scratch something off of the list. "Check..."

They continued to stand in silence for another few moments when Desmond's eye darted to Sawyer's hand. Wedding ring. His eye darted to Jack's hand. Wedding ring. "Are you two...uh..." He pointed frrom one of them to the other.

"What?" Jack finally spoke, his eyes wide. "No! No, no. Not at all." He paused a moment before adding, "Are you too...you know...?" He made the samd gesture Desmond had.

Desmond, realizing that he and Ben both wore wedding rings, chuckled. "No, no, not to 'im. We're just getting groceries-"

"Yea, sure, Doctor," Sawyer jeered. "Living together, eh? Maybe...rooming together?"

"No!" Desmond protested, mildy annoyed. "You've got it mixed up, brutha. I'm rooming wit' Charli-"

"Oh, so it's Oliver you've got you eye on, huh?" Sawyer laughed. "I knew that kid was a fairy."

"He's not a fairy!" Desmond snapped. He sighed. "Look, brutha. Charlie is staying with me and Penny - my wife - until Claire - his wife - finishes school in Australia."

"And Charlie and Desmond are staying with me and my wife, Danielle, while their house is fumigated." Ben helped to complete the picture, giving Desmond a 'you're welcome' glance. Both Jack and Sawyer nodded in understanding, but Sawyer's expression showed that he would probably be making jokes later.

"Well." Ben broke the silence. "What are you two doing in town?"

"Juliet and Jackie here are here for some doctor's convention," Sawyer informed them. "And, apparently, it's 'drag your spouses around the world' week, so me and Freckles had to tag along." Ben flinched at the sound of Juliet's name. Desmond pretended not to notice.

"Kate and Juliet? They're here too?" Desmond asked. "Well, that's a coincidence, isn't it, brutha?" Both Jack and Sawyer nodded.

"Great," Ben muttered. "I always loved reunions." Desmond elbowed him in the side.

"Ben, hush."

"Yes, mother. Now, while you three lovely ladies catch up, I'll get the rest of the groceries." He grabbed the cart and pushed it off, disappearing down another aisle before Desmond could call him back. Desmond looked at Jack and Sawyer with an awkward, forced smile.

"He's a little cranky this mornin'."

-x-X-x-

"Charlie?"

"Hmm?"

Charlie looked up from his chair in the corner of the kitchen. Danielle, who had called his name, was holding a metal bowl filled with dough. "Charlie," she said again. "Do you want to help me make biscuits?" Charlie shook his head, slouching forward in his chair.

Danielle sighed. "Charlie, you've got to do something. Come on." She leaned forward to pat his shoulder, but he flinched away with a whimper. She let out a huff of annoyance, stirring the dough angrily. How in the world were they going to help Charlie if Desmond wouldn't even consider therapy?

"Hey, mom! Hey, Charlie!" Alex bounded down the stairs, wearing her winter coat and a scarf.

"Hello, dear," Danielle responded. "Where are you going?"

"Down to the coffee shop," Alex told her, smiling. "Charlie, do you wanna come?"

"Coffee?" Charlie's head poked up, and a little bit of color returned to his face. He looked up at Danielle, who smiled encouragingly. "Uh...well...I guess I could go. Let me go get a coat."

Charlie sprinted up the stairs, and returned, wearing a light jacket and his favorite brown beret. "Let's go!" he said, a lot happier than he had been. Alex smiled and opened the door. As he walked to the door, Charlie peered into the mirror that hung on the wall. For whatever reason, the patchy scars that marred his neck looked redder than usual.

-x-X-x-

Arm in arm, Charlie and Alex walked into the coffee shop, laughing at Alex's recount of Karl falling face first down the stairs a few weeks before. Apparently, he had been running away from Ben, who had threatened him once again. They walked up to the counter.

"Hello, Tom," Charlie said, leaning on the counter.

"'Ello, Charlie." The cashier turned around and started punching numbers into the register. "Your usual? Large mocha, no sugar, no whip, extra dry, with half skim, half full milk, and a shot of raspberry. Right?"

Charlie nodded. "That's right, mate." He turned to Alex. "You?"

"Oh, uh..." She glanced up. "Just a small vanilla frappe for me, please." Tom nodded and quickly whipped up both drinks, handing them to the two.

"'Ave a nice day!"

Charlie and Alex turned, trying to find a place to sit, when they heard, "Charlie!" Both turned, only to see two familiar faces.

"Kate? Juliet?" Charlie smiled, walking over to them, with Alex following. "What are you doin' here?"

"We're in town for a medical conference," Juliet informed them. "Jack's here as well, so Kate tagged along."

"Hi!" Two identical boys, looking to be around two years old, walked slowly over to Charlie. One was holding a plush snake. "Who are you?"

Charlie smiled. "I'm Charlie. Who are you?"

The twin with a blue shirt pointed to the red-shirted twin, who was holding the snake. "That's Trey. I'm Luke."

The red-shirted twin shoved his brother. "Nu-uh! He's Trey! I'm Luke."

Charlie glanced up at Juliet for conformation. Juliet laughed. She pointed to the blue shirted twin. "Luke." She pointed to the other one. "Trey." Charlie nodded.

"I'm a friend of your mom's," Charlie informed them, bending down to their level. "I rescued her from a big, scary island by swimming to an underground secret lair."

Luke and Trey's eyes were wide. "No way!" they said, simultaneously.

"Yes, way, mates," Charlie confirmed, grinning.

"I have a snake!" Trey informed him, holding him up. "His name is Jake!"

Charlie's eyes widened in mock amazement. "Really? That's pretty cool, mate!"

"See, look!" Trey wrapped the snake around Charlie's neck, pulling it a little tightly. "He likes you, see? He's giving you a hu-"

"AH!" Charlie wrenched himself away, clawing at the toy desperately. His breathing became labored and ragged, his face white. Alex tried to get near him, but he swatted her hands away, attempting, in vain, to breath in large gulps of air. Finally, his shaking hands managed to get the snake away. He threw it blindly, coughing until his eyes rolled back in his head. He dropped to the ground with a thud.

Alex, shocked, pulled out her phone, quickly dialing a number.

"Mom? Yea, it's me, Alex. Charlie definitely needs therapy."

* * *

Yuuuuuuuuup. Short chapter, sorry! I didn't feel like this chapter need anymore, soooooooooo. Yup.

Review please! :D


	6. Chapter 6: The Therapist

Sorry, this is a short chapter. I'm struggling to keep inspiration for this story. Enjoy!

* * *

"Charlie, stop that."

Upon being scolded, Charlie stopped tapping his fingers on the table and scowled at Desmond. The two roomates were sitting side by side on an uncomfortable leather couch in the office of Danielle and Ben's old therapist, and neither of them happy. Charlie was unhappy because he didn't like therapy, and he was bored. Desmond was unhappy because, when Charlie was bored, he was also incessantly annoying.

"What else am I supposed to _do, _mate?" Charlie asked, his tone high and whiny. "I don't see why I'm here, anyway. I'm fine."

Desmond turned his head to stare at the Mancurian, his expression incredulous. "Fine? You collapsed on the floor of a cafe because a child wrapped a fluffy snake around your neck. You are not _fine;_ you are _pyschotic._"

Charlie let out a huff of annoyance, crossing his arms and glaring at the wall opposite him. "I'm not pyschotic. Ben is pyschotic. He's killed people."

"So have you," Desmond quipped, his voice casual.

Charlie glared. "So have you," he muttered, rolling his eyes and fixing his cold glare on the navy blue carpet.

Desmond frowned, and went back to his previous activity of staring at the wall. It wasn't like he wanted to be here, either. He would rather be...well, anywhere. But, someone had to take Charlie to the therapist, and seeing as Charlie didn't trust Ben, and Danielle was busy, Desmond had been the only one available.

"Mr. Pace?" A loud voice called from the corner of the room. Charlie turned his head. A woman was standing with a clipboard. "Ms. Smith will see you know."

"Smith?" Desmond lifted an eyebrow. "I thought this was Dr. Jordan's office..."

The woman nodded. "It is, sir," she reassured. "However, Mrs. Smith is working with us through an exchange program to get her PhD. If you'd rather see Dr. Jordan..."

"No, it's fine." Desmond jerked his head up. "Go on, Charlie." Charlie groaned, but he pulled himself to his feet, following the woman into a small room, where a small, blonde-haired woman was looking over a file. She looked up, light eyes scanning over Charlie.

"Charlie?" Her voice was soft and familiar. She rose from her seat.

Charlie's eyes widened. "Libby?" He grinned, running over and wrapping his arms around Libby in a bone-crushing hug. "Libby! Oh, how are you?"

Libby laughed, softly reciprocating Charlie's embrace before pulling away. "I'm grand, Charlie. Just grand. And you? Well, you're a little...you wouldn't be here if there wasn't a problem..."

Charlie scoffed. "Oh, that? Just a little...post-traumatic stress disorder, no big deal...you know, dying changes you."

Libby's delicate chuckle resonated through the silent room. "I see. Well, I'm sure we can sort that out. I went back to college to get further education in pyschology, and part of the program includes studying abroad. We've been trying to get in touch with you, but-"

"Wait." Charlie interrupted her, his eyes darting down to her hand. A large diamond twinkled on her finger. His eyes went back to hers, the links connecting in his mind. "You...you and Hurley! Oh, I knew it! I just knew it, I did!" He clapped his hands, laughing.

Libby laughed, hiding her grin behind her hand. "Yes, yes we are. The number you gave us the last time we talked hasn't been working..."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, well, Ben sort of confiscated my phone in order to make me come her-"

"Ben?" Libby's eyes widened a bit.

"Yeah, Ben," Charlie confirmed, shuffling his feet. "Desmond and I are living with Ben and Danielle while Desmond's house is fumigated...I sort of infested it with wood lice..."

"Wood lice?"

"The little...rolie-polie bug things."

"Oh, those." Libby chuckled. "Anyway, Charlie, if you could have a seat, I think we've got a lot to talk about..."


End file.
